


Vatican Cameos

by pendrecarc



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Asexuality, Comment Fic, Gen, Genderswap, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-17 22:25:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/872647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendrecarc/pseuds/pendrecarc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after. (He still respects her.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vatican Cameos

**Author's Note:**

> Comment fic for [innie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/innie/pseuds/innie), who wanted Sherlock as a woman and John as a man.

John’s flipping idly through the morning paper when her door opens. Sherlock pads down the hall to the shower with quiet, even footsteps, so he fires off a quick text to Lestrade to let him know she’s slept off the drugs.

She comes out a few minutes later wearing that blue robe with her hair still damp, then curls up on the couch without a word.

“Feeling better?” he offers.

She doesn’t say anything. One long white leg pokes out of the robe. He’s reminded, irresistibly, of Irene Adler the day before, and then of Sherlock herself wrapped in a sheet at Buckingham Palace. Now as then she’s staring straight ahead. He wonders if she’s still a bit hungover. Maybe it’s just the reaction to being soundly beaten.

“Mycroft rang,” he says. Her face twitches. “He’ll be by at half nine.”

“We’ll have to ask Mrs Hudson to put the kettle on,” she says. “I’d hate to seem inhospitable.”

“You planning to dress for company?” She glares at him, and he puts the newspaper down. “Sherlock.”

“It doesn’t alarm me.”

He’s lost. It’s a familiar feeling. “Come again?”

“Sex,” she clarifies. She’s back to staring at nothing in particular. “I don’t find it alarming.”

“Ah,” he says, stalling. He has to think back a bit to remember what Mycroft had said. It’s clearly stuck with Sherlock, though, God knows why. “Never thought you did.”

“Really,” she says. Her voice is flat. Her eyes are clear and back on him. If she is hungover, she’s hiding it well. “Never?”

“Er,” he says. “No, actually.”

“But you do think about it.”

“…Sex? Generally?”

“Don’t be stupid. Sex, and me. Not sex _with_ me,” she adds when he freezes, eyes and mouth opened wide. “My—relationship to the topic.”

There are clearly a number of very wrong answers to this question. He’s not sure whether there are any right ones. “Are you asking how I reacted to the fact that your brother thinks you’re a virgin?”

“I know how you react to people who think we’re sleeping together,” she says. “I don’t care about that. But yesterday it happened the other way around. Twice. People who thought I—hadn’t. And used that.”

Sex isn’t a weapon he’s ever seen Sherlock use, not even when she’s undercover or trying to get a subject’s guard down. He’s curious about her phrasing. He’s also assumed for a while that she hadn’t, and he wonders if she’s suggesting otherwise, but she’s so uncharacteristically hesitant about it that—not the point. Never mind the rest of them; John isn’t looking for anything to use. “Sherlock,” he says, leaning in a bit, “I don’t care about that, either.”

“You should,” she says intently. “I lost, John.”

“You think it happened because there was a naked woman in the room?”

“I have to consider the possibility.”

“You could also consider the possibility that she’s better than you.” She gives a familiar huff, and he relaxes a bit. “More prepared, cleverer—“

“Don’t be ridiculous.” It’s an automatic response. She’s relaxing, too, the sort of relaxing that comes in the form of indignation. There’s probably going to be pouting.

“Right,” he says, nodding. “Not a chance that you’ve met someone who could beat you in an even match. There must be something else going on.” He stands before she can say anything. “I’ll just see about breakfast, then. Meet you downstairs. And I don’t care one way or another if Mycroft’s comfortable, but there’s Mrs Hudson to be thought of, so Sherlock?”

“What.”

“Put some clothes on.”


End file.
